Shadows of the Enemy
by Phantom Sunstorm
Summary: Something about Schwartz never seemed right. Wounded and captured Yohji learns some truths about his enemies that alters every thing he ever thought and imagined about them. And about Weiss.
1. Default Chapter

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SHADOWS OF THE ENEMY  
by Phantom Sunstorm  
  
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Give to me all the nothingness in your head  
The day in done, darkness won  
They think we're better off dead  
My time has expired, I'm leaving now  
we'll burn in the fire, together somehow  
You'll figure this out  
Sometime today  
My luck has run out anyway.  
-- "Escape Fatality"  
by Northern Poets,   
Sagi at the Rhine.  
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Kudoh Yohji's Thoughts on Life...  
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[Koneko-no-Sumu-Ie, Tokyo, Japan] My mother must have been praying to the wrong gods before she gave birth to me. Because after that fateful day, that dawn of spectacular existence on a windy June night in a third rate, over turn hospital, nothing but bad shit has been following me. I am born. I grow up. I suffer.   
  
I don't even know if there is a god...  
  
To me, Irony is a living force. Irony, with a big capital Important "I". Maybe that's something I should pray too. Maybe that's something worth believing in.   
  
I never had a reason to be a man of faith, not after all the things I've seen. I never had a desire to cling to something called hope or immortality or redemption. If this life is followed by a void of nothingness and destruction I would welcome it openly. Tch' I know I wouldn't make it to heaven anyway. If one existed.   
  
Besides, I know what happens when people put too much faith in god. When their belief becomes something that festers and consumes every part of their life. That's what happened to that Irish nut bastard from Schwartz, isn't it? That's his story, am I right? The devoted Catholic forsaken by everything he ever put faith in.   
  
I guess I'd go crazy too if that happened to me.  
  
Funny how I'm thinking of Them after all these years. Them, with a big capital Terrible "T".   
  
Them, whos whispers and manipulation still haunt Omi's dreams, side-by-side with the blooddrenched nightmares about his family. About his whole terrible, morbidly Ironic life. And I thought I was cursed. Them, we aren't even allowed to say Their name in front of Ran. Not after what they tried to do to Aya, what they tried to do to Sakura. They're like ghosts to us, living, breathing demons that shadow our every footsteps. Ken can't even see the color black without tightening his fist and clenching his jaw.  
  
We only knew them for a few brief months, months that seemed to stretch on into eternity, and... and they left such an impact on us.   
  
I guess its man's folly to think of himself as immortal. Even I'm guilty of it. I've been thrown down to the ground so many times, only to find myself crawling back to my feet, plastic grin in place, ready to get hurled again. Nothing could touch me, and if anything did, it only left a scratch.   
  
I walked away from Asuka's death with just a scratch. I left the police force without even a tear to darken my face. I survived, I survived like god, Irony, wanted me survive. I was the one of the few people directly involved with the chaos and destruction that Takatori and his short, violent reign of power had created, carved into the delicate society of Japan. All of Weiss survived, our reputation torn at the seems, but our bodies still in tact. Our minds, somehow, still intact.   
  
And then there was Este.  
  
And Them.  
  
And I survived that.   
  
But I didn't walk away unscathed. None of us did. In those short few months that we spent dancing and being manipulated by Them, a realization struck us. They, Schwartz, were pulling the strings the whole time. Everything we did, every move we made was carefully plotted out and orcastrated by Them. Like mice being trained to locate the cheese in a maze, they controlled us. And we didn't even realize until the bitter end. The day of the ceremony, where Immortality met Fatality and every one of us realized that we were not indestructable.  
  
The thought always lingered in the back of my head. The nagging acknoweldgement that if it wasn't for Them...  
  
We wouldn't have made it to shore.   
  
...we wouldn't have even made it out of the Ceremonial Chamber.  
  
This is something Aya and Ken would never admit and Omi would never want to talk about it. But as we locked in battle, each of us paired up by our respected opposite, we knew. We saw it in their eyes. They were in complete control, completely casual. This was a dance to them, a joke, and the final notes were drawing to an end. The American one even had the arrogence to lecture us as it all came crashing down.  
  
We talked, him and I, just as the pillars were starting to break apart. I should have panicked in the chaos. I should have thought about the two girls, about young Omi, and bold Ken. I should have been plotting my escape, screaming names, and yelling for a retreat. The building was crashing down on us. The building was going to crush us. But that was the last thing on my mind.  
  
Amazingly clear my mind was at that moment.  
  
/'...and so ends our dance, Weiss kitten.'/ The telepath had whispered.  
  
I thought I was winning, my wire around his throat. "You think this is a game?" I growled.   
  
The wire went slack and I was stunned. It felt as if the strained edges had been cut in half by invisible hands. I searched out for the kid who could move things with his mind and when I found him, I knew he was too preoccupied with Omi and Ken to have had a hand in this. Was it the telepath? And his inhuman speed? The wire was still around his throat, but loose, he looked smug.  
  
Throughout our encounters it always felt like they had an advantage on us.   
  
/'To us this has always been a game,'/ He said just as the floor was starting to give way. /'A very important and deadly game.'/  
  
The red head grabbed me and pressed me close to his body. Everything was exploding into loud violence, we sank together. He held my head and his lips brushed against my ear, muttering one last taunt before we hit the water and were seperated forever. "Life's a game, kitty. We're all players."   
  
The water was cold and the world was turning Black.  
  
/'...and the game was over.'/  
  
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Kudoh Yohji's Resentment Over the World at Large  
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[Docking Harbor 8A, East District, Tokyo, Japan]  
  
Games, games, games, games.   
  
Nobody ever told me being a Florist was such a high-risk job, we should have gotten a better health plan.  
  
The storm clouds made the night turn Black, the darkness made worse by the isolated part of town. Irony stuck again as we were assigned to a mission that involved the same pier and city beach that we had drug ourselves out of almost one year ago. I had stared into the dark waters with a grimace of distaste, remember how cold they were. I never wanted to return here. And by the look of my team members, neither did they.  
  
This place, this former site of Immorality, just reminded us about how stupid and vulenerable we really were.  
  
"Abyssian and I will cover the south enterance, Siberian please station yourself on the roof. Balinese, guard the waterfront exit." Bombay was giving orders again. Funny, I used to be bothered by having a little runt almost five years younger than me tell me what to do. Now it just seemed natural. "If the information given to us is correct we only have a short amount of time before the explosives go off. Let's try to enter quietly and remove as many hostages as you can. I don't want to say this, but if time draws short, we will have to abandon some of them before the bomb self destructs. Their lives are important, but so are ours."  
  
Aya once told me that life was cheap. His especially.   
  
I wanted to grin.  
  
It was hard being subordiant to a teenager that killed people in gym shorts.  
  
"Everyone be careful," Ken muttered. This mission didn't exactly involve the neighbourhood little league, but almost all of the people involved in this heist were a little younger then Omi. Such cases always hit the Universal Big Brother right in the soft spot. He looked towards the poorly lite wearhouse with cautious brown eyes. "I've got a bad feeling about this."  
  
I checked my wire, pulling it out quickly then letting it snap back into my watch. "I'm not going to die here." I told him.  
  
Aya just snorted.   
  
And we were off.  
  
This was a simple mission. And you know how those kind always went to hell.   
  
We were sent by Kirtker on a locate and retrieve mission. The targets were children, teenagers actually, victims of a rising youth cult that was predicted to end its short fellowship tonight in a nitrogen bloodbath. Due to recent implications of religious rights advocated in the media, the cities public defense had to be easy careful about whos toes they stepped on. Anything that looked like an infringment on another groups rights could easilly turn into a political scandel. Even with all the evidence to support busting in on this seemingly harmless new age support group it was still a better choice to let Weiss take out the garbage and save the publicity for another social distater.   
  
On my headset I could hear Aya and Omi moving into position. We had to get the fantical idiot kids out before their leaders - fantical idiot adults who, of course, were also linked to several large, more diabolical criminal machines - went gun happy on their congregation. Once again the Hunters of the Night were denying these evil beasts their tommorows.  
  
I heard something shatter off-site via Ken's head set and then the gunshots began.   
  
"Damn it," Soccer boy muttered, "they saw me."  
  
Surprised shouts and howls echoed from the inside. Aya and Omi abandoned the idea of stealth and crashed right in, waving their weapons and yelling at everyone who valued their lives to get out. Of course, when you became wrapped up in something that involved faith and trust and god and belief and that thing suddenly became threatened, your life value suddenly dropped to zero.   
  
"Well yeehaw," I muttered, storming forward across the peir planks. "And I thought this was going to be boring."  
  
Aya was trying to push through the hysterical teams and target the leaders, the ones with the shiney guns. Omi was trying to find a perch on which to rest himself so that he could clip them out with his long ranged, but that was difficult when he was suddenly rushed by seven screaming girls. Ken jumped into the frey about the same time I did, punching and kicking his way to the center.   
  
I tried to work on damage control. "Hold your fire, you're going to hurt the kids." In the throng of bodies I had no chance of being able to get the leaders. The leaders, who at that point, were starting to clip off the teenagers in an attempt to get to us.  
  
I never really saw the point of suicide.   
  
"The bomb is going to go off in ten minutes." Aya reminded us.  
  
Never really saw the point of dying.  
  
I was rushed by a couple of boys. Dog piled. My headset flew off and landed across the floor where I heard it shatter from the weight of another berserker. Somebody stepped on my fingers. My arms were penned to the ground and fists were flying into my face and stomach. And this was so embrassing.  
  
I survived Asuka, Takatori, Este, and THEM, and I was about to be beaten to death by a bunch of high schoolers in pink robes and shaved foreheads. Somewhere in the heaven that I didn't believe in, the Irony gods were sitting on their golden thrones laughing themselves retarded.  
  
Someone was screaming my name and all of a sudden the blood that split on my face was no longer entirely mine.   
  
Aya had no formal training really, but he had skill. Not many modern kendo fans actually knew how to slice one human being, much less three, in half with one swoop.   
  
I stared into his cold purple eyes and took his offered hand. If those frozen orbs could say anything right now it would be: Fuck morality.   
  
Ken wouldn't have killed them.  
  
"Are you..."  
  
I waved him off, "I think one of my ribs are broken."  
  
Something crackled on Aya's headset and he turned to look behind him. "Bombay said he no longer thinks we can get the targets out safely so he needs help trying to deactivate the bombs." His expression darkened as more thugs, I mean victims, I mean targets, crowded around us. "Get out of here. You're in no state to fight. We'll meet up after the bomb has been deactivated."  
  
I nod and wonder why these idiots wanted to die anyway.   
  
"Well, you little shits," My fingers hurt from being stepped on but I wasn't immobile yet. I drew my wire from my wrist and stared at the objects that blocked me from the door. "if you want to die so much, then I guess I can give you a hand."  
  
The exertion erased any doubt of my ribs status out of my mind. I had to hurry and get somewhere safe before I did pass out. I killed and staggered and killed and staggered and generally did what I was best at: surviving and walking away. It felt like I had taken a couple of blows to my head because everything was beginning to feel light and swimmy and I almost made it safely out into the night before a particular gunshot bang went off that I couldn't ignore.  
  
I saw the blood shoot off and hit the planks below me. Irony or luck caused my side to instantly go numb and when I drew my hand away to look and smell the blood I was a bit doubtful that it was really my own. I took a few steps forward, another, I made it off the pier and to the alley way. One of our escape routes. Five minutes. I couldn't stop staring at my hand.  
  
One thought raced through my mind: I'm not going to die here.  
  
The brick wall offered a hard support for my sagging body. I had to stay calm, I told myself. Press your hand against your side and keep the blood in. It tingles, owch. And fuck. But it felt numb at the same time. It was then that I noticed my nose was bleeding too, I could taste the copper in my mouth and tried to spit it out. Three minutes.   
  
I could be dead in another three minutes.   
  
I survived Asuka and Takatori and Este and THEM and I could be dead in another three minutes. Dead. Dead, dead, game over, dead. How fucking embrassing. Another minute passed. I slide to my knees and drew a cigratte pack out of my trench coat. I pulled out a stick and gave it a cool look, at least I wasn't going to die alone.  
  
The building exploded. I guess they weren't able to deactivate the bomb.   
  
Omi....Aya. Ken, you made it right?  
  
I stared at the smoldering, shooting pile of shit that was moments away from sinking into the sea and hoped that each and everyone of those prick kids were going down with it. I remember how cold the water here is.   
  
This was suppose to be a simple mission, right?   
  
I took a drag of the cigarrette and coughed. I had a concussion, I think. Broken ribs for sure. And I'm pretty sure that oozing pile of scattered flesh that was once my belly side is more than just a paper cut. I was going to bleed to death unless someone found me.   
  
Omi. I'm dying. Come get me.  
  
No headset. I wish...  
  
"Ken..."  
  
I wish I could talk to them and make sure they were all right.   
  
"Don't let me die here."  
  
The cigarette fell from my lips into my lap. My whole body was tingling and slowly shutting down.  
  
If I was one of THEM I wouldn't even need a headset. I could just use my psychic powers.   
  
"Aya..."  
  
Footsteps, was it them? My eyes were closed, or were they. Everything was blurry. Too many footsteps. Too many to be just three people. Aya, Ken, Omi.  
  
"Oh my, looks like someone beat us to the target."  
  
"That's not fair."  
  
That wasn't my team. Those weren't their voices.  
  
"Less work for us."  
  
"Its pretty."  
  
Come on, Kudoh. It was too early to go into shock now. Open your eyes. Those voices, do they sound familiar? Accents. Wake up Yohji. You're such a fucking pussy.  
  
"...just sit back and watch the fireworks."  
  
Another explosion rocketted off in the distance.  
  
"Cops will be here soon, lets go home." A nasal voice commanded. Hey, don't leave me here. "What a waste of time. I'm going to talk to you-know-who."  
  
Don't... come get me.   
  
Fading footsteps, then a pause. I didn't believe in god, but was there hope?   
  
I don't want to know if theres a heaven or if theres nothingness.  
  
"...what do you see?"  
  
"I see many things. None that you need to be concerned about." Was the wise-ass reply. "Get back in the car, I'll meet up with you."   
  
Gone.  
  
I coughed a little and sighed when soft hands pushed up against my forehead.   
  
"Hmm, whats this...?" A moment of silence, maybe shock. I was shocked. I was in shock. I was dying. I'm not going to die here. "A stray kitten?"   
  
Oh...  
  
...hell no.  
  
Hell no.   
  
No. No.  
  
No wonder that voice sounded familiar.  
  
"Shit, Kudoh, you're badly injured. Where are your little friends."  
  
I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, but I was too far gone. Fading out of this reality. If I died right now, and I was going to, because HE was here, I was going to march up to the heavenly palace of the Irony Gods, pull out a cigratte, and start laughing hysterically right beside them.   
  
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Between Reality and a Nightmare...  
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[Unknown, Tokyo Japan]  
  
Something about THEM always bothered me.   
  
I knew they had psychic powers, I knew they were smarter and faster and stronger than I was. But something about THEM never added up. Take all that speed and strength and intelligence and you still didn't physically have the abilities to accomplish what they did. It was as if...  
  
As if...  
  
I floated in and out of sleep, a sleep that seemed enternal. One minute I knew I was dreaming, the next I couldn't tell if I was awake or even alive. If this was death, it was warm and comfortable. But on the inside everything felt dull and banged up. My body held the tissue paper feel of a being whos great pain was being masked by enough pain killers to drop an elephant. I thought about Aya and Omi and Ken and after a few days I had convinced myself that they had found me, all of them alive, and that when I was coherent enough I was going to bitch and moan until they honestly wished they had left me to die on that peir.  
  
It was just my way.  
  
"Need I remind you that I don't approve of his presence." A voice chided. "He makes the others nervous."  
  
Wait. That wasn't Aya talking. That wasn't Omi or Ken.   
  
"He'll leave when he's ready. He just needs time." A hand reached out and brushed hair away from my face. The hand was strange, strong, and cool to the touch. "Its not safe to return him to Weiss just yet. Not in this state. Not with what's after him."  
  
This wasn't real, it couldn't be. His hands were not gentle. They couldn't be. Nothing about him was gentle.   
  
I wanted to open my eyes but found the task to be futile. Drugs or pain or pure exhaustion were keeping me dead to the world. Dead eyes, dead mind, but prying ears. Ugh. I knew I was floating, the conversation didn't flow, which meant large proportions of time were ellasping and I was catching the start and tail end of sentences.  
  
"He's not useful to us at all, so I find it interesting that you continue to hover over him as if you care about him." A voice I've never heard before teased.  
  
A pause, maybe not a pause. Maybe I just blanked out again. "I kept him alive for three years, I'm not about to let him fall now."  
  
I sank away back into the recesses of my consciousness. For awhile everything was black, then it slowly came back again.  
  
"...it will never end."   
  
That voice, that voice that was quiet and rough like a Catholic hoarse from whispering a thousand prayers in penance, had to belong to... My heart skipped two or three beats in hysteria. That was it, I had enough. I had to be awake, right now. I had to know what was going on, who was around me, for what purpose I was being held here for.   
  
Where was Aya and Ken and Omi.  
  
A cold hand touched me then drew back when I went rigid. They know I can sense them. They know, they know. They know - calm down. The hand withdrew and I could feel eyes on me. Whos cold hand is this? Two breaths in the room, two breaths other than mine. One normal, slow and calm, the other so light and silent I could almost miss it. If I didn't know it belonged to the one that just touched me.  
  
Good deductions dectective, now wake up.  
  
"Oh well, whatever. Nevermind." The quiet one gave up, turned on heel and left the room. The other following shortly after.  
  
THEY had me and they were going to control me, again. And use me as a puppet, again. They were going to invade my head and use the information there to hurt Weiss. To hurt my friends, my family, and I couldn't even open my eyes. I knew that THEY were using me, that's why they kept me, and I couldn't even wake up.   
  
WAKE UP KUDOH.  
  
"I still think we should get him a feeding tube." A young, annoyed voice said.  
  
Wake. The. Fuck. Up.  
  
A hand stroked the hair from my face. "Hush kitten."  
  
Wide emerald eyes sprang up. With a single, agonizing lunge I sat up for the first time in three weeks. The motion burned and it felt as if my side was torn apart by the action. A pant of breath released from my lips like blood soaked fire and I was enraged. Enraged.   
  
Enraged and I felt the hand on my face withdrawl and I stared into a pair of shocked, unguarded jade greens. I had never seen that expression on the Mastermind before, an almost human, fragile expression. If only I had better time or better reason to enjoy it. I wanted to cry out in pain but settled for clenching my teeth in fury. It was all building up.  
  
Building up to a breaking point.  
  
And then it ripped.  
  
My back arched and I let out the most frightening high pitch scream I had ever heard.   
  
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END CHAPTER ONE  
  
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Authors Notes   
  
This is a rewrite of a crappy story originally entitled "In the Hands of the Enemy." For anyone who might be paying attention, this follows the same first two chapters, now condensed into one lengthy rant from Yohji Kudoh's first person point of view.   
  
If anyone is interested in reading this fic further be forewarned, the langage will remain strong, no sexual scenes will be added, but something far more sinsiter then smut, bad grammer, or excessive violence will be added into this ficlet. There will be two original characters, both male, that will be key players in the plot of "Enemy." How hypocritic it is of me to force my originals to the access of other readers when I myself tend to cringe away from such works, but theres no way that they can be removed. In fact, this whole arc has been written just to introduce them. So, if you're like me and can't stand that kinda thing, run away while you can. Both characters should make their debut in the next chapter.  
  
On another note, if anyone is still interested in this piece of trash I'm trying to pass off as a fanfiction, sad little Phantom Sunstorm no longer has anything to use as a spell checker. Word Perfect couldn't take the reality of living with me anymore and self destructed on late summer night. Also because I only find myself righting at the crack of dawn or just a few hours before this, the chapters are poorly proof read (if proof read at all) and therefore soaked in grammer errors, spelling mistakes, and horrific sentence structure. Typo. Typo. Typo. I'm sorry.  
  
This is a Schwartz centered fic, I don't own Schwartz or Weiss although randomly the Schwartz and Weiss voices in my head say they own me.   
  
blinks and stares at clock  
  
Good night folks.   
  
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	2. Ch 2 Yohji's POV

I was in hysterics.

Me. Yohji fucking Kudoh, hysterical.

The funny thing is, I knew I was out of my mind, but even knowing that, I couldn't stop it. My heart was running the 10k and every bullet wound, broken bone, flesh wound, scratch, and ingrown nose hair was screaming out in protest in a white hot thread of pain. But I couldn't stop, I couldn't calm myself down. I was completely lost, a joke, I was making a fool of myself.

But HIS hands were on me. His hands which were washed in the blood and tears of a thousand more victims then I could ever hope to soil my own on were touching me. He was touching me.

When I tried to lash out with my legs he slide onto the bed, positioning himself over me without putting undue pressure on my wounded body, but effectively pinning my legs down so I couldn't beat him. I snarled and spit flickered out of my mouth. His eyes, cold like a polished jade stone, were calm the whole time.

I could feel the bile piling up in my stomach and if I did choose to hurl I hoped all of it hit him square in the face. I hope the stomach acid gave him scars and burned away the calm glint in his eyes.

"Calm down, Kudoh." He told me.

Calm the fuck down.

Like I could.

A second body entered the room and I could barely hear their footsteps over the thunder of my struggling. The deceptively diminitive Prodigy slid into my feild of vision and studied me with his impassive frown. His gaze turned from my hysteria to the Mastermind and he sighed. Mastermind in turn grabbed both of my wrists and shoved them over my head. He began to breath heavily from the effort of holding me down.

"He's a fighter, huh?" Mastermind asked over his shoulder, with a slightly amused smile.

Another sigh from the killer who was even younger than Omi. "Maybe he wouldn't be freaking out like that if it didn't look like you were trying to rape him." That, I realized, was probably the longest sentence I've ever heard from the pale teenager. Prodigy's attention shifted again and he lifted up a glass of water and a bottle of something that looked like presciption pain killers. "Get off him, Schuldig. He's not Farfarello."

The Mastermind... Shoe-dig?... complied and soon the light weight wrestled over my body lifted. I froze then, breath caught in a spike inside my throat. I could feel the wetness soaking the bed, sweat poured out from panic. Everything hurt. The familiar tight pull of stitches... the gunshot wound. Damn.

"Well," the telepath commented, his head tilting to the side slightly allowing a pool of dark orange hair to fall over his left shoulder. His long lips curled into a half smirk, "I guess we don't have to worry about him having anemisa."

I tensed as the Prodigy set the glass and bottle down and reached towards me. His silent glare met mind, warning that he'd accept no funny stuff and I could feel the slight press of invisible hands pull down on my shoulder as his reached over and pulled up my shirt to exmain my body. Lithe, his fingers were like butterflies dancing over my body. It still hurt though and I hissed outloud as his touch floated over inflammbed flesh. I wonder where I got this blue cotton shirt? It wasn't mine...

Who's bed was I in?

How many stitches were in my side...

The Prodigy shook his head, "That little stunt aggreviated the wound, but it will heal properly." So commanding, I always saw him as cold and meek. As if he was trying to push it all in and just follow orders. Like he didn't want to be there, like he was lost and trapped inside the Darkness. Poor kid, I used to think. But hate him nonetheless. "He won't be able to walk for another few days, and he shouldn't be running around for any length of time for another couple of weeks. It could tear."

"...what the hell am I doing here?" I growled, my voice was dry and rough.

Why haven't you killed me yet, Mastermind?

/'All in good time, Kudoh.'/ The nasal teased and I shook my head, as if doing so could get rid of the tingle the telepathic message sent down my spine.

Mastermind's head tilted further to the side and if anything the smile grew wider and more amused. "We found you bleeding and disorientated at the site we were contracted to demolish. Stupid teenagers, can't have them ruining Rosenkratz name, you know. Of course... the place was already a 'smoldering pile of shit' by the time we got there. Funny how Weiss and Schwartz so often coincide."

"That. Doesn't. Explain. Why. I'm. Here."

The European frowned, his smile sliding off his face like water from a glass. "I scanned the area, kitten, Weiss wasn't anywhere near your useless body. Would you rather I have left you there to die?"

"I would have expected it."

I know Schwartz. Bastards. They don't do anything out of the kindness of their heart. What do they want for me? Information, duh. Fucking Kudoh.

Cruel jade eyes narrowed. "You," Mastermind spat, and his voice was venom. "know nothhing of Schwartz."

In a blur of motion he was gone. That infamous speed, supernatural, unfair... My breathing slowed down and I realized I was left in a strange room with the only member of Schwartz I almost considered halfway human. His expression had darkened, if that was possible, and in slow, calculated movements he turned away and left the room.

888

Hey Aya? Did I ever tell you about the time I blacked out for six hours after a mission?

No... I didn't tell you that.

I came home and looked haggered and you all assumed that I went drinking and dancing afterwards. Like I normally do. Yeah, I looked like shit, but you didn't think much of it. I didn't want to tell you the truth... that the last thing I remembered was trailing Berserker down the street, alone. They beat us to another target and killed the girl while they were at it. She looked like Asuka, like so many of them do, and I couldn't help myself. I wanted to beat that shit eating grin off that Irish fuck's face.

He stopped running when he caught the small sound of my footsteps, he turned... and that was the last thing I remembered.

Purple eyes.

I tried to convince myself that nothing happened. I went to a bar after that mission, drank too much, had a hangover. Everything felt fuzzy, like a hangover. Even the pain. But I knew... there was something else.

A few days later we were sitting in the mission room mulling over THEIR latest involvement in our mission plans. I was on the couch with Ken, I had the corner because he was laying on his back and taking up most of the two cushions. His head was leaning over the arm and I was smoking a cigarrette, glaring at the dart board that hung to the wall opposite me.

"I'm almost one-hundred percent certain they'll show up when we go to assassinate Toyoko Natsunumi." Omi was saying, he sat at his computer desk, spinning half circles in the small chair. "What are we going to do guys? They're going to kill us someday. We need a strategy and I'm all out of ideas."

Omi out of ideas, that was never a good sign. I rolled the cigarette around in my lips and breathed in on the bittersweet taste. I always hoped it would be that smoke that would kill me, not something else. "What are we suppose to do?" I asked, "There's six of them and they have superhuman powers."

"Four." Aya grunted, he was sitting on the stairwell.

My gaze retreated from the dartboard, "Huh?"

I could feel Aya's cold steel attention on my back. "Four. There's four members of Schwartz."

"Yeah..." I replied slowly, not catching on.

"You said 'six.'"

Ken sat up, legs clunking down on the floorboard with a jutting thud. He hunched over so that his arms were resting on his thighs and leaned close to me. Omi stopped half-spinning in his chair.

I was confused. "I did?"

"Yohji..."

"Huh. My mistake. I meant four. Sorry guys." Maybe I was just out of it.

Maybe...

888

"He's on the mend, huh? Guess I'm glad to see he's going to make it..."

That strange quiet voice... It woke me from my slumber. I wasn't even aware I had passed out again and that strange disorientation, that loss of time was starting to irritate me. Three weeks, damn. I sat up a little, but the pain in my side wouldn't allow much movement. The room was pitch Black. I couldn't even see my legs in front of me. Maybe they had been sawed off...

Schwartz bastards...

"Well," Another voice, I recognized this one. The impatient sigh of the Prodigy. How many people were in this room? Why couldn't they turn on a damn light. "we know he's not going to die. We should return him to Weiss. Damn Schuldig."

Schoo... Dig.

Wait. Return to Weiss? They were going to just let me go? No, that had to be a trick. Was Weiss still alive? Maybe... maybe they'd let me loose and follow me back to our hideout. Oh god... no, wait. Wait. Mastermind was some kind of mind reader, right? Couldn't he have just plucked that information out of my head. Damn it.

"Not yet," a quick rasp, one that belonged to that crazy ass Berserker. "too dangerous."

I tried to sit up again, tried to force my eyes to see something, SOMETHING, in this darkness. I bite back a cry at the sharp pain from movement and gave up. My body sunk into the cushions below us, cotton. It made my skin crawl. This wasn't my bed. I wasn't suppose to be here. I wasn't suppose to be here...

"But..." Prodigy's voice cried, actually dramatic. "Doesn't he make...?"

I don't think they were in the room, probably standing outside the door. Or maybe behind a window, like one of those two-way mirrors they have at the police station. I've been behind them before, back in my detective days. They sounded muffled... but just a little. Why was it so Black in here? Since they were talking about me, I figured they must have been intending to make some sort of enterance, and for the sake of wanting to hear any useful information they might let slip out, I quickly rearranged myself into a sleeping position, ready to play possseum.

"It's okay," that quiet voice said. "I don't mind. I guess."

"What about Crawford?" The telekentic asked, annoyance back in his tone.

There was a pause between the three speakers, as if the other two were considering their answer carefully. Or consulting with someone... Finally the quiet one spoke. "He said Schuldig can do whatever he wants with Kudoh. He doesn't have any plans."

The Prodigy sighed and I could hear him shuffle around with something. "I wish Crawford would be more assertive in this matter. I don't like him being here. It makes me nervous."

The quiet one chuckled and I wondered why the Berserker wasn't talking as well. "You're usually the calm one. Look at me, do I look nervous?"

Then again, the Berserker didn't talk much anyway.

Instead of answering, Prodigy changed the subject. "When will the Yukigawa contact be finished?" My ears perked at that. Yukigawa? But the named didn't sound familiar. Way to go, detective.

"Next Monday," Berserker answered. He sounded more clear and rational than I remembered. "Don't talk about it. He might be listening."

His replies were still short and painfully to the point.

I turned my head to face away from what I thought was the door way, closing my eyes. Pretend to be alseep, pretend to be asleep. Should I snore? Don't be fucking ridiculous, Kudoh.

A short laugh from the quiet one. "Ooh, now I feel nervous." A slight pause in conversation then more shuffling. My stomach was beginning to knot in anticipation. "Hmm, it's almost ten. Time for cartoons. Come on, Farf."

The door was pushed open and it took everything inside me to not jump in fright. I guess my best wasn't good enough though, because I heard Prodigy pause in the door way and regard me with suspicion. I sighed and opened my eyes, the act was over. The light turned on and I winced at that. The room filled suddenly with a dull white glow and for the first time in three weeks I was able to take in my surroundings. My prison.

And I was creeped out.

White to the point of almost being morbid, the only thing in this room beside a bed and a simple two stacked ivory dresser was rows... and rows... and ROWS... of unmarked video cassettes, all neatly stacked into built in shelves that covered the walls of this very, very sterile room. Was this a bedroom, I wondered. Or had they just shoved a mattress into a storage area. A tv set was hung from a wall and it looked lonely and black in the rooms whiteness. A chill creeped up my spine, this just looked... weird.

What was this? Did Schwartz film all their kills or something?

Prodigy sighed and pulled a chair from a walk-in closet I hadn't noticed before. He placed it close to the bed and perched on its side. "How are you feeling, Kudoh?" He asked, after a moment of silent examination.

"Why are you keeping me here?"

Prodigy turned and placed the medical kit he had carried in on the side of the mattress. He thumbed open the box and neatly inspected the contents. "It's what Schuldig wants." Was his practical, detached response. "I don't agree with it, you know. I think we should have left you there."

To die...

Shool-Dig?

My eyes widened as Prodigy pulled something dangerous looking out of the box. It was a klunky device with a thick back and a narrow end. My body was locked in place by psychic hands and I could do nothing but squeeze my eyes shut as he stuck the instrument into my ear. I waited, expecting an electric shock, or wires to reach out and latch onto my brain. I jumped liked a cat when the thing in my ear gave a loud, hollow click. Oh god, was I just injected with something?

Prodigy pulled back the device and studied it's head. There was a queer, almost amused expression on his face. "Well... according to this thermometer your body temperature is normal."

Yohji, you fucking idiot...

Nagi rolled his eyes and put the thermometer back in the box.

Must... save... face...

"Is this..." I asked, "Is this Schwartz headquarters?"

Brilliant.

The question caused the boy to freeze and he looked up from the kit a bit startled. I felt anxious at the expression, like I asked the wrong question and would not be allowed to pass go and collect my two hundred dollars this round. Nagi's face melted back into a light mask of amusement again. "I guess you could cal it that. This is our apartment. This is where we sleep... eat... watch tv... plot evil."

Stupid.

"So... why, then?"

Another sigh. "I told you, it's Schuldig. Apparently he doesn't want to see you die." Schu-dig. "And for the record, I don't really give a shit if you live or die. Now don't throw a bitch fit, I'm going to pull back these blankets and check your wound." With that he grabbed my sheets and rolled them away. The hairs on the back of my neck curled at the invasion, the vulenrability, the cold air.

"Do I get to go home after this...?"

You want me to lead you to Weiss, you know you do, you little shit. What am I doing here?

"You can go join Yamanaki's Three Ring Circus for all I care after you're healed up." Prodigy quipped, he produced a can of balm from the medical kit and coated a large q-tip with it. "The wound looks okay, I guess. You shouldn't be walking for awhile though. That kinda pisses me off, the sooner you get out of here the better. I think Dark Zoilo wants his room back."

Dark Zoo-low? So this was someone's room... I looked around again at the bleak collection of hundreds and hundreds of unmarked video tapes and shuddered. Prodigy took that as an affect of the cool balm he was smothing over my disgusting scarred side and withdrew from touching me.

What was going on here? Schwartz was plotting to use me somehow, I knew it. KNEW IT! Mastermind was probably somewhere close now, invading my subconcious, programming thoughts into my head that I wouldn't realize were there until it was too late. Soon I'd be one of them, one of the killers of Darkness, I'd go after my friends because I was brainwashed and didn't even realize it. I was going to become Schwartz puppet... that's what they were doing with me. I knew it. Knew it...

Wait.

Names. They were giving me names? I never had names before. Shool-dig and Dark... Dark Zi...

"Schuldig." I said outloud.

Prodigy shut the medical kit and looked up. "What about him?"

"That's Mastermind's name?"

Prodigy gave me a daft look, this kid was good at making people feel stupid. "Yeah..." Then he did something really frightening. He smiled. "Oh my god... you didn't know his name? Holy crap! How shitty is Weiss' intelligence? His name was listed on Takatori's employee list. Good grief... do you know my name?"

I felt like I would offend him if I didn't. "Schuldig is Mastermind... then Dark Zigo is Berserker and... Oracle is...Craw..."

Prodigy shook his head, "Berserk is Farfarello. Oracle is Crawford, well, Brad, but everyone calls him Crawford. If they know what's good for him. Dark Zoilo is our sixth, you've never met him. Or at least, you shouldn't have."

My mouth dropped slightly, processing this new information. 

"Scwartz got a sixth..." This means... Weiss was out numbered. Oh god, Weiss was outnumbered. And overpowered, and they had six? And he was wounded and useless and captive and probably being brained washed, and now Schwartz had a sixth?

"What do you mean 'got'" Prodigy asked, and I realized I still didn't know his real name. The kid stood up and walked to the door. The cold feeling in the pit of my stomach grew. "He's been a part of our teams for years. You just never noticed. Get some sleep Kudoh, I want you to get well and get out of here."

Schwartz had six...

Prodigy...

'There's six of them...'

Mastermind. Schuldig.

'Four.'

Oracle. Crawford. Or Brad.

'Yeah...'

Berserker. Farfarello.

'You said six.'

Dark Zoilo...

Prodigy, Schuldig, Farfarello, Dark Zoilo, and Crawford. But that only made five.

The lights turned off and I was left alone in the Darkness.

888

AUTHOR NOTe: The next chapter will be from Schuldig's POV then go back to Yohji's from there. 


	3. Ch 3 Schu's POV

Life was just full of unanswered questions, now wasn't it?

Sorry. I like to begin stories with weak rhetoricals.

But when you've been in my mind, you would understand. All life is, is unanswered questions. This isn't a fairy tale kid, reality is full of loops and plot holes and bad endings. Get used to it, because that is what is waiting for you in the end. I amuse myself by trying to sound smart in my own mind, did you like that little rant?

Right now you're wondering about what is going to happen to our dear, precious Yohji. What is that evil Mastermind planning, who are these mysterious Schwartz members who have never been mentioned before...

I'm getting ahead of myself.

It's eight in the morning, Nagi's just waking up. He's thinking about his chemistry exam, running through equasions and forumals in his head while he brushes his teeth. So much information floating in that little brain of his, sometimes he thinks his head will explode. When he thinks that, I just want to slap him. You know? I'm not a very nice person.

Crawford is already gone. Currently Schwartz is working for some loser named Shigero Yukigawa. What an ass. He's into child porngraphy, did you know that? No, he keeps his private life very secret. Of course, that little aspect of his personables is completely unrelated to any assignment Schwartz has been involved with, but I still want to pull my gun out of its holster and paint the cream colored walls of his large, expensive office with his brains.

Farfarello has similiar thoughts, but for different reasons.

Ever since that Takatori bastard. Damn golf clubs.

We haven't been able to trust Farfie alone with an employer since.

You'd think a sadist would be able to appreciate another sadists work, but Farfarello has this whole victim complex; it comes from being a Catholic. He can hurt others, but stand back if someone hurts him. The wounds on his soul are fresh and deep, they never scar over properly. They feed his power. Kriker's database theorizes that Berserker doesn't have any extraordinary powers. They just say 'Berserker: Male Caucasian. Doesn't feel pain.' Oh baby, if only that were all of it.

You see Farfarello is what we call a...

Oh shit. I've gone off on a tangent. Where the fuck was I?

Ah yes, it's eight in the morning and Nagi is going off to school. I'm still in bed with the covers kicked off to the side, smoking a cigarette. It's a water bed and sometimes it makes me feel seasick, especially if I've smoked too much. My hands are behind my head and my knees are flexed straight towards the ceiling.

I'm doing my rounds.

Nagi's in the kitchen now, straightening his tie. The new high school Crawford enrolled him in wear Western style uniforms, very snazzy. I kinda miss the old black nazi number myself. But, whatever the fuck kids are willing to put with these days, right? He wishes I'd stop being lazy and drive him to school like I used to when he was younger, because taking the subway is such a hassle. Life's a bitch, isn't it?

Dark Zoilo is gone, he's been on assignment for the last month. Convient? He pops in and out as he pleases, he's more independant than the rest of us. Even I get homesick after awhile. I need my daily dose of Nagi harassing or I start to get ansty. But Dark Zoilo can disappear for months. That's why he's our field agent. And you'd never see him coming.

Farfarello and the other one are out cold in their respected living spaces. Dreaming little dreams of death, filth, and salvation. Angels with their eyes gorged out, children screaming, flesh burning down to charred ash over a blood red sun. It's so cute, if only you could see it. It's my job to wake them up before I go into the office. I've got some offical mind fucking to do this afternoon with a few of Yukigawa's associates before I take a late lunch.

Poor Schuldig. So oppressed.

Ah yes, but you're wondering. Where's Yohji?

Hmm. The bastard's still in lala land. He's beginning to suspect that Schwartz might more than its surface appearance! Big fucking Duh, Kudoh. Tell our contestant what he has won! Christ Almighty.

He still doesn't trust me.

Bastard. Should've left him there to die.

I felt more than heard the door quietly close itself as Nagi left the apartment. Drawing the cigarette out of my mouth, I gave the small line of smoke a thoughtful glance. Grey ash flickered and drifted to rest on my pajama top.

Hurry up and get better, you peice of shit.

888

"Ah, Mister Ioku, this is Mister Schwartzcoft, head of my secruity force. Mister Schwartzcoft, Mister Ioku. Please, gentlemen, take a seat." Yukigawa had an elbow growing out of his face. At sometime in his life his mother must have drilled two holes into the bottom part of that dried up flesh heap to make nostrals. I'm surprised he could breath through that monstrosity.

/What is Yukigawa thinking? A foreigner? And he brought him to a private meeting, how distasteful./

The sun was half out today and glinting in just a way that beams shot through the wall-to-ceiling windows and attempted to blind me. I crossed one leg over another and seated myself beside my employer, who was opening a notebook and preparing to lecture.

/Oh, we're almost out of water. I'll ask Keiko to get some more.../

/Ugh, damn allergies./

"Well then, I'm happy to report that our year end earnings were quite higher than we expected..."

The first time I laid my eyes on Yohji Kudoh... Hmm.

/Is Mr Eikyu really having an affaire with Ms Nobiki? Is that what you call social climbing? If only I were ten years younger... I'd sure as hell sleep my way to a better salary./

That was nearly six years ago, if I remember right. Fuck, it could've been more. It couldn've been less. When your mind works like mine does, it's hard to keep things in chronological order. This was before the whole Weiss gig though. Back when he was a detective with whats-her-name... Green hair, raspy smokers voice. Damn, she later worked for Masafumi...

"Excuse me, Keiko, could you bring us some more water?"

/Mmm... I like that.../

/Good lord, Keiko, button up your shirt! Some women, there's no shame in them/

"Certainly, sir."

It was when we first came to Japan, right after we got the brat. Ah, he was so fresh back then. Yohji, not Nagi. So full of ambition and invincibility. He honestly didn't believe he'd ever die, ever fall from grace. Brass son of a bitch, wasn't he?

"...that is to say, or investors should reconsider dealing with Phoenix & Raffle Inc until stocks balance out, in our current..."

/Blah, blah, blah. I wonder if I can get in a game of golf after Yukigawa's done yammering... Hmm./

ASUKA!

That was her name.

"Thank you, Keiko."

"Of course, sir."

/Thank you, Keiko's breasts. You make these investment meetings so much less boring/

Stupid bitch.

Actually, oh yes. Now I remember. The first time I met Kudoh was the day his partner died. One of our current employers, I forget his name, was a member of that "Gentlemen's Club" and Crawford had forseen problems. I had gone in to retrieve him, Nagi just so happened to be with me - although he didn't enter the club - and we removed our employer without hitch. Then the gunfire started.

Heh.

"Therefore, I suggest we consider Yokami and Noshiyuri's offer to merge our sister companys with..."

"Mastermind..." It's painful to think about how young our little Nagi was back then. No, really, it breaks my heart. His little hand reached up and grabbed my coat sleeve. "We should get out of here."

I chuckled and pulled my hair back with a band. The gunshots were becoming more heavy, and hurray, were starting to head in our direction. The car was only a few feet away.

/That fool, Yukigawa. Does he really want us to invest in Yokami and Noshiyuri? They'll sink this company/

/What is Yukigawa thinking? The board will never go with this idea... Yokami and Noshiyuri are a waste of time. They'll never be successful./

/I hope for the love of GOD and my CHILDREN that the board doesn't go through with this stupid idea.../

Here's where my work began.

I wonder where Crawford was. Nah, not really. If he was here, then he would be spoiling my fun.

I put my hand on the top of Nagi's head and ruffle his hair. The gesture sent bangs flying everywhere and I promised to hack some of those wild things off when we got home. Damn brat, he looked like a mop. "Kid," I said, "you need to learn to have a little fun."

Oh, but he was a smart bastard, even back then. "I don't fine bullet wounds to be very entertaining." Smart ass, I mean. Smart ass.

I lite a cigarette and tilted my head.

One shot fired. Two shots fired. Three, four, five. Footsteps. Come to Schuldig, baby.

A teacher at Rosenkratz once told me, hang on I got to think of this. If I don't say it right it won't make any sense...

/But what if Yukigawa's right... This move to allign with Yokami and Noshiyuri is so sudden, so unlike him. Maybe he's onto something./ That was my voice.

My teacher said...

/Then again, if I look at these reports... Yokami and Noshiyuri have been extremely successful in this isolated feild. If we could add it to the company.../

"They're coming... just sit back and watch the fireworks."

Two lone figures sprinted across the alleyway, fleeing for their lives. I could taste their mental aderline in the back of my throat, and it was better than any cigarette smoke I've ever sucked down. A man and a woman, two people trying to fight the good fight, tear an entire syndicate of evil down by themselves. How romantic.

Storybook-like even.

I laughed out loud when a stray bullet nailed the woman in the back.

In the man's mind, the world and everything in it came to a dead stop.

/The board wouldn't do anything stupid/ The told the one woman investee. /They know whats best for the company. They've always made good decisions before. And by the way, that Keiko bitch needs to be fired. She has bigger tits than me./

The one woman investee nodded her head in conclusion, then froze with a blush. Her eyes tried not the wander to the assistant standing in the corner, holding the water pitcher.

The basic tool for the manipulation of reality is the manipulation of words.

Falling...falling... falling...

Disbelief, anguish. Pain, terror, death... Nothingness.

Blank eyes, frozen wide open. I loved that expression. It meant nobody was home.

The man's heart broke and for the first time I got a good look at his face, twisted in dark emotions. Without thinking, I broke into Nagi's frightful train of thoughts and ordered the young telekentic to sheild him. Him... Yohji Kudoh. Down on his knees, subservant, holding the limp body of his one time lover. He didn't even notice the bullets bouncing away from him.

What pure emotion.

"So that's true love, huh?" Never felt that one before.

I wanted to destroy it.

"So then, I'll let the board discuss their thoughts on this matter in private and we can meet back in an hour." Yukigawa bowed and turned to exit.

I leered with the light in my eyes and slowly untangled my long, foreinger body from the leather chair.

"Schuldig..."

"...run..."

"Schuldig?"

"/Run, you stupid bastard./"

Yohji Kudoh.

I didn't notice that I had pulled out my own gun until he was on his feet and moving away. At first I reasoned, my gun was trained on his body. Oh, that would've been sweet, wouldn't it? I could have saved him right there, ended it at that moment so he could die next to his lover. Now that, boys and girls, that would have been storybook.

The syndicate's henchmen chased after him. They had machine gunes. One of them stepped on Asuka's body as he passed. I shot him in the head, and they turned to look at us. With my control on their brains, it didn't take long to make the rest of them dead. The man escaped, escaped as the people chasing him turned on each other.

"What do you think, Mastermind?" Yukigawa asked me, as we rode down to the lobby.

"W-why, Schuldig? Why did you protect him...?"

"Pow, pow." I said to Nagi. He was shaking. "Fireworks."

The numbers on the elevator slide down to zero. I pulled a cigarette out of the pocket of my jacket. "Everything is going according to plan, sir."

He smiled under his giant elbow nose and stepped out in front of me when the brass doors opened, exposing his back. I stared at his retreating form, slightly dumbstruck. The jabbering minds of the lobby began to filter into my brain, pushed back by the overwhelming thought that I could just pull out my gun and end his existence right there.

Pow, pow.

I was always thinking weird shit like that.

My teacher once told me: a bullet in the right place could change the world.

888

What a fucking boring day.

I contemplated stripping down to just my boxers in the hallway between the front door and the dining room, but then I decided against it. A quick scan of the apartment showed that there was no one interesting out and about to strip for. And what was the fun in being naked alone.

Random thoughts, random thoughts.

Damn.

Seriously.

Where was everyone? Was Crawford still at work? Nagi could be at the library, he goes there to study sometimes. But... God damn. It was early evening and the house was quiet. Dead quiet.

I peeled off my coat and threw it on the dining room table. Bang, bang.

Hmm. It was so fucking quiet that I had to wonder if...

I walked into the living room and studied the furniture. Everything was in place, neat and orderly, exactly as we had left it. You know, even after all these years, you would think I could learn. I'm a telepath, you know, I get my sense of reality through mental sensations. Kinda like a heat scan, but in reverse. Sensation, sensation. Telepath's didn't have blind spots... unless they were dealing with...

Shadows, shadows, false light.

Silence, calm, stilness. I studied Crawford's recliner, then the couch, then the two beanbags pushed up against the polished coffee table. My eyes touched everything, my mind ignoring what it was telling me: there's nothing here. There's nothing unnatural about this white, buzzing, soundlessness. Fucking...

"He's awake."

Fuck you. There he was.

I took a step back and mentally scolded myself - you fucking pansy ! - he was right in front of me, seated cross legged on the couch, middle cushion. This revelation drew an annoyed sigh from me and I began unbuttoning my dress shirt.

The spell was broken, I fell against Crawford's leather recliner and the sound of my body upon impact was like a thousand panes of glass shattering. The act seemed unholy, like I broke wind in church. Ha! "How's he feeling, huh?"

"Anxious."

I began searching for the remote. When I found it, I placed my dirty ass feet on the coffee table and stretched. "Where's Farfarello? Out?"

"He's sleeping."

Sleeping? But it's almost dinner time. I tilted my head to the side and forced myself not to look at him. Oh so fucking gracious, Schu-Schu. "His medication acting up on him again? He hasn't been cutting, has he?"

"No," his quiet voice answered, "he's just sleeping."

Well, I guess he does that from time to time.

I'll go check on Farfarello before I take a shower. Just in case.

I should go check on Kudoh too...

He might be...

Nah. I turned the tv on and channel surfed. Talkshow, talkshow, reality tv, talkshow, news, news, reality tv, commerical, reality tv, rerun... I paused on the cartoon channel and frowned at the glowing set. Did anyone feed Kudoh today? Oh shut the fuck up, Schuldig. You're such a pansy. I rolled my eyes and tapped the remote against my head. I stared at the tv as it went black during a scene change, across the distance small and distorted my image stared back. My image in the recliner, the coffee table my feet reclined on, and an empty leather couch.

What? Oh yeah, he was still here.

He wasn't watching the tv though, he was sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, watching me.

"How about you? You okay that he's here?" I asked. "I could move him to that apartment I have downtown, you know."

"It's okay, I guess."

You guess?

"Huh," I've seen this episode before. Why do they always play reruns? "You'll tell me if it starts bothering you, right? I like to know these things. Not because I care, but because I don't want Crawford breathing down my ass for... distrubing team dynamics or whatever. You know how it is."

I wonder if we had any juice in the fridge.

"It's okay, I guess." He repeated in that same questionable tone. My eyes stayed focused on the tv, my body alone in the reflection of the living room. The scene switched and I gave him time to make any objections. Let it sink in. Tick-tock. Damn, was he ever going to talk? "Schuldig?"

"Guilty!" I chirped.

"...my show's going to be on in twenty minutes. It's the season finale, so I get the TV, ok?" Another commerical and when the scene darkened this time I could see his slight form slowly fill across the set. Now there were two people sitting in the dull mirror. The atomosphere in the room relaxed.

I tapped the remote against my head a few more times in thought. Now I could feel those purple eyes train on the back of my head. His mind unmasked. "Hmm, maybe I should bring some DVDs into Kudoh's room. He's going to be bedridden for a few more... weeks. Don't want him going crazy."

I tossed the remote onto the coffee table and jumped up, the motion popped my back. Ahhh, so nice.

"But that'd require finding out what kind of movies he likes, going through my closet to find the DVDs... so much work for such a humble Mastermind. Oh well, I had good intentions. That's enough to get me into heaven. I'm going to check on the Farf and take a shower. Knock yourself out, kid."

I didn't hear any movement until I was halfway down the hallway, and then, it was just the sound of the television channel changing. 


	4. Author Note

AUTHOR NOTE: 

I'd like to say I'm annoyed with whatever has done to make the site ignore brackets and other symbols. Chapter Three had a more stylized appearance when I wrote it, it had indention and use of special brackets such as - and I'm sure these won't show up, and / that I feel would have made the last chapter MUCH more easier to read. But it's 5 AM and I don't want to go back and edit.

EDITED: yup when I wrote "And I'm sure these won't show up", I made a list of the following brackets and symbols I used and sure enough, they were edited out. How freaking annoying.

/ >>>>>>>>>>>> > 


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